Earthshaker
by Advisor Irk
Summary: AU. America is struggling in the cold, heading towards Russia for help to save him from WWIII, which is everyone vs. himself. Female Russia and America pairing in second chapter.
1. Remember it

A lonely and desperate America was in the cold. It wasn't that he ever meant harm to anyone, but he had always been a bit foolish. He loved attention, and ever since he was small he had enjoyed attention. America knew that attention couldn't always be good, but everything was good to America. He had authority over everyone, and everyone listened to him. They didn't always appreciate it, but they would in the future.

He treads through the snowbanks slowly, wrapped in warm clothes that still do not prevent a freezing breeze from chilling the core of his bones. He shivers, but continues on. The winters here are cold, but this is his last chance.

America was never a favorite of most of the others. He was an ally to many, but often leapt into war. Even now he didn't quite understand why they had left him. Sure, he and Britain had never really gotten along perfectly, but they had a history together. It was one of America's favorite stories, one he loved to remind himself of. The fight with Britain for the right to choose how to live his life. He used to live with Britain and live under his laws, but as he grew older he decided he wanted to become his own self. He chose to live under democracy. It was a new idea at the time, but America felt that over the years he had made it into a perfect government. So perfect in fact, that he often shared it with others.

He and Britain were shaky for a bit after that, but they made up later. America, who used to look up to Britain for support soon supported Britain with his military. America often had a laugh about that, though Britain wasn't very happy when he told the tale to guests.

Britain still was his ally, one that he had to admit he respected. Britain was noble and wise in ways America could never understand. He had pride, one different then America did. Often America would be left wondering about Britains' strange traditions, it was almost wonder. He would never admit to this to Britain though.

Britain had been one of the last to abandon America. They had a bond like a pair of siblings who fight a lot; often acting like they hated each other but could never really live without the other. Eventually he was pressured to leave by everyone else, but he didn't like leaving.

America rests on a bank to take a sip of water. It's practically frozen solid, but he's thirsty. It was not a big surprise when Germany left America. He and America were never close, and relations hit rock bottom with World War I and World War II. They never quite recovered, and even though they were part of NATO, they never trusted each other. America saw Germany as a menace during the wars, always hyping up every thing he did. America never really planned to head to war, but Germany brought him to war. America had a habit of, once finding something a threat, staying angry at it for a very long time.

Post World War I, Germany was still angry at America. When World War II broke out twenty-one years later, America and Germany were locked in war again. When America triumphed with the Allies, he enjoyed the feeling of winning once more over Germany. Germany admitted defeat and started new once more, but America never felt like he could trust him. There was something about him that America didn't like. It wasn't a surprise when Germany left him, the first to do so.

He trekked on into the night. It was hard to tell if he was heading in the right direction, everything looked the same in the frozen night. France was someone who America always had some problems with. She was very stuck-up and loved to boast. She often made fun of America for his fondness of cheap food and cheap things in general. She often would boast about how great a cook she was or how lovely she was. America's only thing that he could brag about was his strong military power, and how he was one to not surrender. France was more of a damsel in distress, not exactly one to do well in war. She gave it her best shot, but often had to rely on her allies to help her out. She would always bicker with America, but he was sure that she would come to his defense in an emergency. It was a not as big as a surprise then he thought it was when she left him. Deep down he knew she never quite liked him that much.

There are lights in the distance. America hikes up a hill towards the lights, hopeful after so long. He need an ally now. They all left him, all of them. Many of the ones that he was never that close to, like China, didn't surprise him. War was bound to happen. But as more and more of them left his side and declared war, even his closest allies left him. Australia apologized before leaving him. South Korea and Japan left without a word. Those who were not his allies, like North Korea and Iran, often were there when his allies left. They watched with smug expressions, ones that made America angry.

Soon almost everyone he knew was against him. He fought off the armies of his former allies and current enemies for awhile, but he couldn't hold it for much longer. There were too many of them. It was surprising he could even hold off the combined force of everyone at once, though he knew he had his love of stockpiling weapons to thank for that. He had always loved to collect and create more weapons out of wartime. In peacetime he'd often be told off for developing new weapons. Now he was reduced to using all he had against the combined forces, and he knew he couldn't hold them off for much longer.

Which is why he was here, in the cold. It was a tough decision, due to his usual dislike of Russia, but one he knew he would have to make. Russia was the last one left. She was someone who, despite seeming to hate America, refused to declare war on him. She had holed herself in her house in the blizzard country, and no one had visited her because of this. If America could get her on his side... Well, they wouldn't be much better off. But he knew what Russia was capable of. And even then, they could just hide in her house if they war started failing too badly. Perhaps everyone would forget about him when they were claiming spoils of war. There was a chance.

He reached the door at last. He rapped his hand against the door a few times, and waited for a response. Russia opened the door, looking rather amused. She invited America in and grabbed him a drink of vodka, saying that 'he probably need it'. Russia and America always had trouble getting along, heading back to when she was the Soviet Union. They were allies during World War I. After the war, they began to fear each others growing power. They never really went to war, but relations hit bottom. Soviet Russia began building weapons as strong as Americas' weapons. They raced each other in fear to see who could own the most weapons. It only ended when Soviet Russia reformed herself into Russia.

Russia laughs at America when he admits he is losing. Russia has always scorned America for being too proud, and now she laughed at how he had been reduced to someone who would admit defeat.

She tells him, "You should not give into defeat so easily. It is not your first mistake, but it will be your last. I always knew to never give up, to never retreat. You should know this too. Our defeat will be glorious, for we shall never admit it."

He says, surprised, "By 'we', do you mean you will help us? And what about glorious defeat? I do not want to lose! To lose by such a great margin will bring shame on me. Everyone will remember me as a great loser."

She states, "If you lose you will not be remembered as a great loser, but rather a dead loser."

He says, "I do not want to be a dead loser! I want to be an alive winner!"

She says, "I can't guarantee anything more then my doubt about us winning. There are many powerful enemies, ones we will not have much of a chance against. I can only hope we can leave a mark."

She extends her hand to him at that, with her promise of leaving something the world will remember. America realizes, with a smile, that he can do that. He and Russia were not going to win anytime soon, but they both can show the world something it has never seen before. They can shake the world with their alliance.

He shakes her hand at that, and they both laugh at the ridiculousness of their alliance. The idea of them doing anything together after so long is crazy. But that's just what their alliance is. A person as cold as the land she lives in and the cocky person who annoys just about everyone. What a crazy alliance it is indeed.


	2. Savor it

It was as he had said, there was no way they could make this. America and Russia had been busy gathering their own stockpiled weapons (Though America had lost some due to the war.) And during this it had dawned on America there was a zero percent chance of this working. They were bound to be stormed from all sides any day now. The only way they had to keep track of current events was an old radio in Russia's house that could only signal in to any broadcasts when the constant snowstorm let up; Which was almost never. And even then, the broadcasts were almost always in code.

Still, they'd gather around the radio at mealtimes and listen hard to the static, searching for the signal. The news they did get was mainly war reports about how successful they had been at invading America's house. Mexico and Canada, who knew America for a long time as his neighbors, had been suggesting America had fled. They argued that it was uncharacteristic of America to not put up a fight, and that what little resistance they had been getting was poor and unorganized. They had expected more from the grand super-power of the world.

Russia had assured America that no one would be able to find them, but he still wasn't sure. They made plans during the days and nights, stocking up weapons and doing their best not to starve. They didn't have much food to spare, as America wasn't even in his own house and Russia couldn't ask for extra food from her sisters Belarus and Ukraine without seeming suspicious.

As they grew hungry together, they also fought more. The two of them were never quite keen on each other anyways, America always being a bit pushy on Russia and Russia always getting irked by America. They'd yell back and forth about their differences and when they got tired, they would continue in a hoarse whisper. Some days they'd not speak at all for hours, occasionally glaring when their eyes met.

It wasn't always fighting though. Sometimes when they both had worked for a long time, Russia would call in the night early. She'd take out a few bottles of vodka and the two of them would drink in front of the warm fire, chatting about the unimportant things in life. They both enjoyed nights like this, and though neither of them would admit it. They could relax and pretend they were with their old friends, instead of with each other. But now all they had was each other, whether they liked it or not.

It was another night for America in the cold. It was his turn to check up on the warheads and weapons, looking for any broken or unusable ones. There were many old weapons Russia had that she wasn't even sure what they were. America and Russia had been sorting for ones they could use. Use to blow them selves up. The plan still didn't seem right to America. He could maybe imagine Russia going down with a bang, but then again he could imagine Russia doing many things. But he could never think of himself going down like that. He was sure he would be the last one, the best one. America wanted to live forever.

Russia remained adamant that her plan would continue. She didn't seem to mind the idea of dying. She practically embraced it, telling America to start looking forward to the day they executed the plan. America would often search Russia's face for sadness when she said this. Actually, he searched Russia's face for any sort of emotion. She always seemed to have the same dreamily content face, one that wouldn't change no matter what news she brought.

Sometimes, America would think. Not just have thoughts cross his mind. No, he would contemplate. He thought about Russia's plan, and his death. He thought about his old allies and new enemies. And he thought about Russia. He didn't mean anything by his thoughts, but his mind was a personal place where he felt he could think the impossible. To him, Russia was an interesting person. She wasn't pretty to America at all, with her broad face and her weird, almost white hair. She had large eyes, which was usually a plus, but her eyes were a pale gray that honestly creeped him out. Her personality was definitely not pleasant, often having quick mood swings between being a kind and polite to being violent and terrifying. The change would happen all the time, without warning. Russia seemed to realize when she changed, but she didn't seem to care.

There's a light in the distance. It surprises America a bit, to see a light. He was so used to the land being lit only by the sun and stars he had forgotten how lights looked from a distance. America scurried up to his feet and ran inside. Russia is working out plans while listening to the radio. She looks up to him without facing him, just looking from the corner of her eye.

"Vhat is it? Is there problem with anything?" She says, quite possibly annoyed, though it's hard to tell.

"Lights- There are lights outside. They are human lights, a land vehicle of some kind."

Russia looks bothered at this. She curses a few words in her language under her breath before speaking, "Ve must set plan up now. It is time, even if ve are not ready. Ve shall have to do our best."

America can tell Russia has lost her calm as her accent get thicker. As she gives instructions, her voice is mixed in with scattered words in her language. Her choppy hair is brushed aside as she maps out the final plans, the times of the launch. And yet his immediate doom is the last thing on America's mind. He can't help but admire Russia now, for her ability to stay calm and work towards her death. She had accepted her death as a mere fact, something that she'd just have to deal with. Even if it was early.

Russia may have homely to America before, but maybe that had changed. Maybe it was the sense of death in the air as the lights of cars grew brighter and brighter, but right now Russia seemed beautiful. It was a different kind of beauty then some of his other lovers like Iran and Iraq, but one more based on inner beauty. Not really on her inner personality, which often scared him, but more on deepness. Russia seemed to be beautiful in the way that she was strange. different. There was much more to her then what America knew, so much that he would never know. That was what made her alluring.

Russia looks up at America, looking nervous more then anything, "You are going to help me, yes? Vhy aren't you doing anything?"

America is suddenly feeling nervous himself, unsure of what to do, "R-right, I'll get to work..." He drags out a few sheets of calculations and tries to set his mind to finishing the plans. But he can't. There's no way he wants to help kill Russia.

America sighs, getting up again, "I-I can't do this any longer, Russia."

Russia gives him a look, "Vhat?"

He takes a breath, "I'm not sure how I can explain this to you, but... I like you. No, that's too weak... I love you. There. I think I'm in love with you, Russia, because..." America's voice falters. He doesn't quite understand the answer himself.

Russia's face is one of shock, like a man watching a murder. But her face is red, and America realizes she is blushing. It doesn't quite suit her, but it isn't a bad effect. It makes Russia look cute, like a school girl talking to her crush. "Vell... Я не уверена …"

Usually America is annoyed when he can't understand someone, but Russia language suddenly seems endearing. They kissed then, almost like long-lost lovers. They didn't speak as they enjoyed each others company as the nearby lights came closer and closer. When the vehicle was only about ten minutes away, Russia suddenly got up. She ran out to the storage bunker, leading America on with hints bout what they were going to do there. America wasn't one to be lead on, but he was feeling amorous right now.

At the bunker, Russia was already gathering something from a desk. When she saw America, she shuffled the desk quickly and put something away behind her. America tried to get a better look, but Russia threw her hands around his shoulders and pulled him closer. There was a faint sound of beeping and of sirens, but America heard none of it. He lost himself to Russia, and as they locked lips the sirens wailed into the night. He knew, somewhere deep in his mind, that these were bombers. That he was finished. But the only thing on his mind was Russia.

There was a click and a beep. He was aware that the roof was opening, that the night air was rushing in and that the missiles were leaving. As they started to power up, the heat intensified. The sirens were loud now, the bombers were dropping their bombs. But to America, there was only Russia.

Russia whispers under her breath as the lights hit maximum and the heat burns their skin. There's no need to yell. America hears her, hears her loud and clear.

"Сегодня может быть наш последний день, но это день, когда они будут вечно помнить. Мы жили, мы умерли. Мы не проигравших в этой войне..."


End file.
